


Slayer? Like the band?

by Bill_Longbow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood Drinking, Boners, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, Fluff, Ghosts, M/M, Multi, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Slash, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29422887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/pseuds/Bill_Longbow
Summary: When Steve inadvertently punches a vampire, his whole world flips upside down. Especially because Vampire Tony and Werewolf Bucky insist on protecting him.Sass and flirting ensues.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 133
Collections: Stuckony Love Letters





	Slayer? Like the band?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [hotdamnitskatelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotdamnitskatelin/pseuds/hotdamnitskatelin) in the [Stuckony_server_love_letters](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Stuckony_server_love_letters) collection. 



> Written for the wonderful prompt: 
> 
> Vampire Tony and Werewolf Bucky are a couple and fall in love with pre-serum Steve Rogers who is so sassy and insists that Bucky is not the only one who can feed Tony in this relationship.
> 
> Thank you to Perplexinglyparadoxalperson for the last minute look through!
> 
> It was written in a hurry to get done in time, so I couldn't flesh out the characters as much as I'd like. I hope you enjoy regardless!

"Hey! Stop that! No is no, asshole…"

Steve runs to the mouth of the alleyway where some drunken douchebag is trying to pull a girl to. The guy's easily one foot taller than Steve, which only makes his groin at easy kicking height, and he barrels into the guy at top speed. 

Despite having called out, he takes the man by surprise and they fall to the ground with a dull thud. Steve feels pleased when he hears the girl run away, but that feeling quickly evaporates when the man hisses at him and reveals two honest to God _fangs._

"Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." Steve scrambles backwards on his ass. He has no clue what the fuck is happening or why he's suddenly starring in a Twilight knock off, but the guy has balls, fangs or not, and he kicks them with all his might. 

The effect would be funny if he wasn't hallucinating -- because _fangs,_ Rogers, people don't have fangs -- as the vampire/guy/creature whatever doubles over and howls in pain. 

What happens next cements Steve's belief he's ripe for the madhouse, because a giant fucking _wolf_ jostles him to the side as the beast jumps onto the vampire/guy/dude and tears his head off, while on Steve's other side a man in a blood red three piece suit appears to look at the scene with an amiable smile. 

"He's such an excitable one," the man chuckles, hands resting on a dark wooden cane with gold inlay. 

"Am I dead?" Apart from being in a coma, death seems the most plausible explanation to all this.

"What? Are you feeling ill?" The man bends down to put an ice cold hand on Steve's forehead. 

Steve jerks away. Dead or not, he's not gonna let himself be fondled by the first handsome stranger that comes along. Not like this anyway. "I'm fine," he replies haughtily, and gets to his feet. 

"You are indeed," the man leers openly, and Steve gears up to give him a piece of his mind, but in the alley the wolf is done with whatever it was doing-- on which Steve doesn't want to dwell too long -- and comes padding over, licking its snout. 

"Good boy," the man croons, but instead of accepting the praise the wolf snarls at the man, who backs away with a grin. 

"Come on, James, you don't mind me saying it under other circumstances." The man pitches his voice real low, and it does funny things to Steve's insides. It makes the wolf squint at the man -- a thing Steve never realized wolves could do -- and huff.

"Okay, I'll behave, but only because we have company. And what company, I might add." The man turns a showbiz smile at Steve. 

"Anthony Edward Stark and James Buchanan Barnes at your service." An elaborate bow accompanies the elaborate introduction. 

"Er. Hi?" Steve's body somehow decides to do an awkward wave, because his brain is stuck in an _error can't compute_ loop.

"This is the part where you introduce yourself," the man, Anthony, hisses behind his hand, while the wolf looks like he's laughing at Steve. 

“Steve, I’m Steve,” Steve replies, and then decides to just roll with it, because being laughed at by a wolf is a new low, even for him. If this is the afterlife, he’d better make something of it. “Steven Grant Rogers,” he adds, as he waves his arm in a slightly less elaborate manner.

“Charming,” Anthony smiles, and offers Steve hsi arm, like Steve is some kind of damsel. “Can we escort you home?”

Steve shakes his head and picks up his bag off the street, putting an extra few feet between him and the others. “No thanks. I can manage.”

“I’m sure you can, but we insist, don’t we, James?”

The wolf huffs again, whether to agree or disagree is unclear to Steve, but it doesn’t matter. He’s not gonna invite these types home, and that’s that, no matter how badly he's tripping. “No really, I don’t need any help. Bye now.”

It takes a huge force of will to turn his back onto the two and walk away, but the wolf is big enough to eat Steve whole, and it doesn’t matter much which way Steve faces. He listens intently, and after a dozen or so steps he turns around to glare.

“Are you two following me?”

“Hmm. No. Don’t believe we are. Are we following him, James?”

Steve swears the wolf rolls his eyes at the man, and he’s not sure why that even surprises him anymore. “Whatever.” He turns around to stalk away again. This is fine. It’s just dandy. Being stalked by a guy and his wolf in a fever dream. Why can't he just dream about pretty, naked men like normal people. 

He makes it to another block before he turns around again. “What the hell happened back there?” 

Anthony smiles and leans on his cane again. “You kicked young Thomas in the unmentionables, striking move, I might add, and then James here dispatched him.”

“By eating his head.”

The wolf whines and looks at Anthony for some kind of support, but Anthony keeps his eyes on Steve.

“No, by decapitating him, which is customary.”

_Right. Customary. Sure._

"Are you sure you're not ill? You don't act like any of the other slayers I've met."

"Slayer? Like the band or like Buffy?"

The wolf whines again, and Tony sighs. "Oh alright, but you'd better get the stains out his time."

Before Steve can ask what's going on Anthony pulls off his jacket, but that's not what's robbing Steve of his power of speech. The wolf is _shrinking_ , his whole essence sort of wobbling and then suddenly there's a drop dead gorgeous butt naked man in its place. 

The man straightens to his full height, revealing lots of spectacular assets, and Steve has to forcefully wrestle his eyes _away_ and upwards to the man's face. 

"Hey, doll," the man smirked. He didn't take his eyes off Steve's as he took the jacket from Anthony and ties it around his waist. The jacket only very narrowly protects the man's modesty, and again Steve had to remind himself not to ogle the man's… assets. 

"James Barnes?" Steve asks, his ma's upbringing forcing him into some semblance of politeness. 

"In the flesh," James smirks, and he looks up at Steve through his lashes in a look that's probably illegal under puritan laws. 

"So… vampires… werewolves… what's more? Elves? Big Foot? Santa?" Steve prides himself he doesn't sound as hysterical as he feels. 

"Sure," Anthony shrugs, which isn't helpful at all, and only serves to make Steve feel annoyed. 

"And slayer? Why do you think I'm a slayer?"

"You ran headfirst into that vamp? Only slayers do that." James looks pleased, like he can't understand why others don't feel inclined to wrestle with supernatural beings on a daily basis. 

"How should I have known it was a fucking vampire?!" Steve knows he sounds a tad bit hysterical now. 

Anthony and James share a look Steve doesn't understand, and then Anthony reveals fangs of his own, even pointing at them with both index fingers. "Look, vampiresh ha deesh."

"Shit. You're one of them?" Steve starts to back away, eyes darting to look for anything he can use as a weapon against a vampire and his huge werewolf pet friend.

"You don't understand, I'm one of the good ones!" Anthony calls, but doesn't make a move to follow Steve. 

Nothing more useful than the lid off a garbage can presents itself, but Steve grabs it and holds it in front of himself like a shield. 

"Wanna play fetch, doll?" James grins and Steve glares at him, backing away further and further. Suddenly the vampire shimmers and appears next to Steve, to push him onto the sidewalk just as a car comes rushing by, honking loudly. 

"You have to watch where you walk, Steven," Anthony admonishes him, and picks him up like he weighs nothing to put him neatly back on his feet. 

James comes jogging closer and before Steve can thank Anthony, he looms over Steve and looks him up and down. "You punk. I didn't save your ass back there to have you kill yourself ten minutes later."

Steve draws himself up to his full height, which still doesn't bring him much higher than James' chin, and glares back. "I had him on the ropes."

"Sure you did, buddy," James huffs, and it makes Steve mad enough to push him with the lid against his chest. 

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I'm calling you a punk."

"Gentlemen, please. Come." Anthony puts an arm around Steve's shoulders. "It's very simple. You have good humans and bad, right? Well, the same goes for us. The world isn't black and white, young Steven. I only feed on those who offer, like James here."

"And the only raw meat I eat is steak with a good Bourgogne," James nods. 

"I introduced him to the finer tastes in life," Anthony adds with pride. 

"Nothing wrong with beer, Tony."

"I won't deign that with a response."

"You just did."

"Can you just… bicker some other time?" Steve butts in. "I'm having a bit of a crisis here."

"Sorry, doll."

Anthony tuts in what might be considered a soothing manner. "It's a lot to take in, I can imagine."

"Why should I believe you're not trying to trick me, and, I don't know, eat me at my place?"

"Because I can pick you up with one hand without breaking a sweat?" James continues to insult Steve. 

"There really isn't a lot of you to feed on, Cupcake. Besides, I just told you I only feed on those who offer, and James is more than willing." He gives James a look that has nothing to do with food and much more with porn.

"We'll walk you home, and in the morning this will all feel like a bad dream."

  
  
  
  


When Steve wakes up the sun is shining brightly through the crack in between the curtains. Outside he hears the usual Saturday morning traffic, and it all feels so… normal. 

Until he sticks his legs over the edge of the bed and trips over a giant furball. He flails for one second but then keels forward into the wolf's flank, who raises his head to grin at him. 

"So, we meet again, young Steven," Anthony suddenly says from the doorway. He's still wearing the suit, but without the jacket, gilet, and tie, and he has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He stays carefully away from the beam of sun, but otherwise he doesn't seem bothered by the daylight one bit. 

"Stop calling me young! And it's not _'meeting again'_ when you never left! And aren't you supposed to be sleeping in a crypt with earth from your birthplace or something?" Steve grumbles as he clambers to his feet. 

At the last statement Anthony curls his lip up in disgust, but the wolf huffs amused and gives Steve's face a lick. 

"Eww. You're not even…" Steve starts as he wipes his cheek with his sleeve, but sees it's a lost cause with the way the wolf is smirking -- _smirking,_ who taught werewolves how to _smirk_ \-- so he turns to Anthony. "What the hell are you still doing here? Or here at all?" 

Last night they had escorted Steve home, but he had firmly denied them access to his home, and was very relieved when they complied. 

"I think someone has a morning temper," Anthony singsongs, and takes a sip from a mug Steve hadn't even noticed yet. 

"Are you drinking _coffee_?"

"Well. I'm drinking whatever passes for coffee in this household," Anthony says as he peers into the mug. "I'll treat you to real coffee some time, but first, breakfast! I baked you pancakes."

With that, Anthony turns around and disappears into the little corridor that separates Steve's bed and bathroom from the living room. The wolf pushes against Steve's calves with his snout, and there's nothing for it but to have breakfast with a vampire and a werewolf. 

_Sounds like a bad romance novel,_ he thinks, and he would snort if he wasn't so shaken. Creatures of the night are scary at night, but in broad daylight, _in his home,_ is of another level entirely.

The way Anthony has set the table only adds to the surreality. On his ma's fine china a huge stack of pancakes stands waiting, next to a fruit salad, toast, fresh oj, and a pot of tea. Steve doesn't remember owning half of this stuff.

"Did you bring your own breakfast for your sleepover?" 

"I borrowed some of your neighbour," Anthony answers brightly. "Lovely girl."

Oh God. Bruce is gonna kill him when he finds out Betty let Steve's guest pilfer his tea stash. Steve sits down with his head in his hands and groans. 

He looks up when someone sits next to him. He expects it's Anthony, but it's actually James, wearing Steve's bathrobe which is way too small for him. 

"Morning," he says as he pours himself tea. 

"Do you ever wear your own clothes?"

"As little as possible," James smirks, and Anthony grins as well, sitting down across from Steve. 

"It's true. He usually only dresses in company." Anthony shoots James another one of those bedroom looks, and Steve lets his head fall down on his arms again. He didn't have enough sleep to deal with this. 

"Coffee, Steviekins?" A mug of fresh coffee is pushed near his head and Steve sits up to fold his hands around it. 

"I'm still not sure I'm not hallucinating," Steve mutters, making James laugh out loud. 

"You would have a very vivid imagination," Anthony smiles. "Shadows on a wall; how do we know what's real and what's not?"

Steve blinks at him, because what the hell do you say to a _vampire_ doing _philosophy_ at the breakfast table. 

"Too early for Plato? Okay," Anthony shrugs. "So. The vampire you tussled with yesterday unfortunately belonged to a powerful clan. Should we leave you alone, they no doubt will lift you off your bed and have their nefarious way with you."

Steve startles when James suddenly growls, the sound much more wolf than man, and when Steve looks James winks at him and continues to sip his tea. 

In a bid to pretend that sound and wink have no effect on Steve whatsoever, he takes a gulp of his coffee. "So. Now what?"

"I'm afraid you're stuck with us for the foreseeable future," Anthony grins. 

  
  
  
  
  


A tiny one bedroom apartment is _not_ suitable to house three adult men. _Especially,_ when one of them turns into a giant wolf -- and back into a naked man -- at random opportunities, but even more so when two of them are in a very… loving relationship. 

Still, Steve hates the fact that he has to move to Anthony-call-me-Tony's place, but after a group of vampires crashes through his window he has no other choice. (It will take weeks to get the stench out, because unlike their romanticized counterparts, real vampires don't turn into a neat pile of dust.)

Anthony lives in a mansion. Because of course he does. Why wouldn't he? Six hundred year old vampire and his furry boy toy need a grand old place. Except the interior isn't all stone, carpets, and cobwebs. It's light and modern. There are tall windows overlooking the gardens, the kitchen could fit into any Michelin star restaurant, and the bathrooms… Steve is in love with the bathrooms. 

He startles into an asthma attack when the ghost in the walls suddenly talks, but Edwin turns out to be both very helpful and very sassy, and Steve likes him instantly. 

  
  
  
  


"Steven, there's a situation," Edwin says, sounding worried. Steve is watching a French German documentary about Degas while munching wasabi nuts and doodling on his tablet. Sometimes his stay feels a little like a prison sentence, with the way either Tony or James accompanies him everywhere outside, but he really digs the tv reception and fancy foods. 

Steve puts the tv on mute. "What's up?"

"It's sir and James, they're wounded…"

Steve stands up fast, forgetting the bowl with nuts and scattering them all over the place. "Shit. Can you keep Dum-E away from this room?" Last thing they need is the imp eating these nuts and getting sick. "Where are they?"

Edwin guides Steve to the kitchen, where he almost slips over the blood. On the table lies the wolf, fur matted with blood. Tony stands over him doing something Steve can't see from this angle. 

"What the hell happened?" Steve's heart is jackhammering in his chest with worry, and he hurries over.

"Later, first we need to patch him up," Tony answers. Tony looks tired, face even whiter than usual, almost gaunt. He's putting some kind of salve on a big wound on James' upper front paw. 

Steve holds up the bowl for Tony, but notices Tony's hands are shaking badly when the vampire picks up a roll of bandages. 

"Sit," Steve orders. "My ma was a nurse, I know how to bandage." He takes the bandage from Tony's unresisting hands-- a testament to Tony's fatigue -- and deftly bandages the wolf's paw. When that's done he fills a bowl with warm water and cleans the fur, checking for any other wounds. All cuts get a little of the salve, but there's no need for more bandages, thank heavens. 

While he's working Tony sits close by with his eyes closed and his mouth pulled in a grimace. Steve is worried he's hiding a wound, but knows Tony won't let him help before James is okay. 

"I think that's all." Steve picks up the bowl to rinse it and his hands, and is surprised when Tony is able to stand, _and lift the giant wolf in a bridal carry._

"I'm gonna put him to bed," Tony says, voice tight clipped and proving how much effort this costs. 

"What about you?" Steve asks, following Tony out of the kitchen. 

"I'll be fine," Tony lies unconvincingly as he wobbles slightly on the first step of the stairs. 

"Fine my ass," Steve grumbles. There's no way he can help lift the two hundred pound wolf up the stairs, and he doesn't like it. He hurries up first so he can open Tony and James' bedroom door, and stands to the side as Tony gently lays the wolf on the bed. 

Tony wobbles again and almost falls backwards, but Steve manages to catch him with a grunt. 

"Now it's your turn," Steve says as he leads Tony to the bench at the foot of the bed. 

"No need," Tony sighs, but barely resists when Steve opens his shirt to check for any wounds. 

"See, I'm fine," Tony smiles tiredly. His eyes are sunken, his hands are shaking. He's not fine at all. 

Suddenly it hits Steve. "You need blood, don't you?"

Tony huffs, and sits forward to untie his shoes but almost topples forward. Steve pushes him back and takes off the shoes himself. 

"I'm fine," Tony says again, and Steve fixes him with a glare as he slides off the first shoe.

"You can barely sit, you need blood."

"Even if I did, I can't. James needs to heal."

Steve takes off the other shoe and shuffles closer on his knees. He pulls up his sleeve and presents his arm. "Here. Drink."

Tony's nostrils flare and he briefly looks at Steve's arm, but he makes no move to take a bite. "No," he shakes his head and closes his eyes. 

"No? You said you drink from people who offer. I'm offering." He holds up his arm higher, almost touching Tony's nose, but Tony bats him away. 

"You don't understand…"

"I understand damn well I'm not gonna let you wither away like this. You need the plasma? I've got plasma. _Drink,_ Tony." Steve pushes his arm in Tony's face again, and this time the old vampire's hands gently fold around Steve's arm. Tony might be feeble, but he could still break Steve without a problem, but his touch is gentle and careful. 

Tony looks at Steve so he nods, and then it happens. Tony reveals his fangs and sinks them in Steve's flesh. The first puncture hurts, but then the hurt numbs and a tingling sensation takes over, spreading slowly along Steve's arm. Further it travels, through his shoulder, down his spine and up. It feels like he's high, like he's floating. It's the best he's ever felt in his life. The sensation spreads further, down his legs, through his chest and stomach, his groin, his cock. His whole body feels alight, and with some far away feeling of shame he realises he's never been this aroused in his life. 

He shuffles and can't help the little moan. His rock hard cock is trapped in the confines of his skinnies and every slight bit of friction makes his whole body tighten. If Tony doesn't stop soon he'll come in his pants, and it would be the best orgasm ever.

Tony notices though, and pulls off Steve's arm. He's looking much better, more solid. 

The tingling doesn't peter out, unfortunately, leaving Steve in a very awkward position, but Tony doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he reaches out to cup Steve's jaw. "Thank you, Apple pie," he smiles. 

"Sure," Steve shrugs, acting much cooler than he actually feels. "What happened anyway?" If he doesn't move his problem will go away eventually. 

"The vampire clan that was hunting you won't bother you again."

_What?_

"What?"

"We went over to have a… friendly chat. They see things our way now."

"You two went by yourself into an enemy clan? Steve can't help his voice from rising. These dumb, self sacrificing idiots. "What if you got killed?"

"These youngsters were hardly a match for us," Tony shrugs, all evidence pointing to the opposite. "Besides, you made it clear you want your freedom back. Now you have." There's something about Tony's look that's off, like he's sad. 

"Do you want me to leave?" Steve asks. If he's honest, he'd be sad to go. He loves the luxuries of the mansion, sure, but he will miss James' inappropriate jokes and Tony's rants more. He will miss sitting down for breakfast together before Tony goes to sleep and James accompanies Steve to work. He'll miss joking with Edwin. He'll miss leaning against the wolf's soft side while they watch tv. He'll miss watching Tony work in his workshop. He'll miss these men/creatures/jerks.

"No. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you want," Tony says, looking both hopeful and resigned. 

"That's settled then," Steve grins. 


End file.
